


Was I good?

by thefloralpeach



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkward Boners, Dorks, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefloralpeach/pseuds/thefloralpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marco has a very nice dream, and Jean gets an awkward boner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Was I good?

For most people, hearing your best and closest friend having a wet dream in the space next to them would completely freak them out.

This was not the case for Jean. At all.

Being 19 and 20 meant great parties for Jean and his friends, and big parties almost always meant big sleepovers. Because, let's face it, almost everyone got much too drunk to drive home. And, even if you were sober, nobody wanted to miss out.

Connie and Sasha were notorious for their parties. Even when they were small, only consisting of their group of maybe 13 people including the hosts, the parties were still great.

This had been one of their smaller ones. Small enough that Jean and Marco were able to claim one of the two guest rooms all to themselves for sleeping.

The general rule was that those who went to bed first got first pick on rooms. Armin almost always grabbed one, and therefore Mikasa and Eren got to sleep there, too. Sometimes Jean was able to claim one, but that was only if Ymir was too drunk to realize she'd need one of her own to do what she wanted with Historia. Because drunk Ymir equaled incredibly horny Ymir, naturally.

From the sounds of it, most of them were still partying downstairs. Connie and Sasha sounded drunk- and therefore irritatingly _loud-_ as ever, Reiner sounded not much different, and therefore Bertholdt and Annie must have been accompanying him, and Jean had managed to claim a room before Ymir this time, so his guess was she and Historia were down there, too, probably passed out.

He and Marco had decided to head up to bed at around 2 am, given they actually both had things to do the next day. Nobody questioned them going up together at this point. Nobody even questioned them sleeping in a bed together. If asked, it was reasonable- the room had one bed, and the floor was uncomfortable. But, they were just always together, and anybody could think what they wanted of it. It was just an accepted thing. _They_ knew they weren't a couple. _Jean_ knew. He was painfully aware of that fact.

It was probably somewhere around 3 am now. Marco had fallen asleep soon after they'd gone up, exhausted from being up since 7 am that morning (why he took an 8 am class, Jean would _never_ know). Jean, on the other hand, was oh so blessed with not being able to sleep.

The noise from downstairs became increasingly obnoxious to him as it prevented him from sleep, but he tried anyway. Facing Marco, facing the other wall, laying on his back. Nothing was comfortable enough to lull him to sleep.

Giving up, he huffed and just turned back to Marco, shutting his eyes and trying to force his mind to fall asleep. Because, obviously, of course that would work.

Actually, maybe it would. Jean finally began to get comfortable, and his eyes weren't opening every few seconds, so that was good. All was actually going pretty well, until…

Until he heard Marco whimper from next to him.

Jean's eyes snapped open, and immediately focused on his sleeping best friend in front of him.

Marco still looked like normal sleeping Marco, but his mouth hung open just slightly now from the noise. Jean was going to just leave him be and go back to trying to sleep, but then Marco whimpered again.

Shit… was he having a bad dream or something? Now he shifted just slightly in his sleep, turning his head into his pillow just a little bit more, as if hiding or something.

A sympathetic look crossed Jean's face. Poor Marco… he didn't deserve nightmares. He deserved everything good in the world. He deserved love, to be cherished, to be held when he felt sad or had nightmares. And Jean wished, god did he wish, that maybe he could be the one to do that.

He sighed. As if _that_ day would ever come.

He wondered… maybe… well, since Marco was asleep…

Jean tentatively reached a hand up to brush against Marco's cheek. Alright, no reaction, that was good. Slowly, he brought his hand down to rest on Marco's upper arm, rubbing soft, soothing circles on his skin.

And a smile began spreading across Jean's lips, surely one of those dumb, disgustingly affectionate ones. Ugh. Why did Marco have to do this to him?

At that moment, Marco made another noise, except…

That did _not_ sound like a bad dream.

Jesus fuck, he'd just flat out _moaned_. And Jean's face was suddenly a frightening shade of red, his hand freezing right where it was on Marco's arm.

Jean opened his mouth, perhaps to say something, but no words came out, and he just snapped his jaw shut again. How- how was he even going to react to that?! Maybe he'd heard wrong. Yeah, that could be it, right? It was probably a bad dream, and poor Marco couldn't help the noises he made! It wasn't _his_ fault he had a best friend with a dirty mind.

Marco shifted again, and Jean immediately drew his hand back. Marco didn't need to wake up to Jean with a red face and his hand on him. That would not be an okay situation, at all.

Rather than waking up, however, Marco just made another whimpering noise, this one more drawn out than the last one. And… and those still didn't sound very much like frightened noises caused by a nightmare.

Jean mentally scolded himself. No. Going there was not a good idea, and- and _fuck_ , Marco's hand was clenched around a fistful of pillow.

Jean had refused to look at Marco's face ever since- since the _moan_ , but finally he gathered the courage to look at him.

Ohhhh god. There was a faint blush beneath Marco's freckles, and his mouth hung open even wider now.

The way he moved- _involuntarily,_ Jean reminded himself, Marco couldn't help it- and the way he sounded, ah, fuck.

Jean _really_ had to will himself to stay calm. Marco was hot on a daily basis, anyway, but _now_ …

Jean took a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding it for a few seconds before sighing it out slowly. He opened his eyes to Marco squirming around again, and- oh, Christ- moaning again.

Yeah, no way that was a nightmare.

He wondered what Marco was dreaming about. What was he imagining, how was it happening?

Was he with someone?

With every moan that escaped Marco's lips, Jean had to try harder and harder to reel in his wandering mind. He couldn't help the images that flashed through his head. Images of Marco, sounding just like this, but in a bit of a different setting.

He imagined what Marco would sound like if Jean was kissing his neck, leaving a wet trail as he moved his lips all over, and maybe leaving little marks over Marco's beautiful tanned skin.

He imagined the noises Marco would make if Jean kissed every freckle, leading a delicious trail down his body, over his chest, to his hips, to his waist and lower.

Or how he'd sound if Jean was on top of him, fingers deep inside him to work him open, twisting around and thrusting in and out of his fucking _amazing_ ass.

He wondered how he'd sound when Jean finally entered him.

Or, for that matter, Jean wondered how he'd _look_. Face flushed just like this and more, mouth hung open just like this and spilling little sounds uncontrollably because he felt _that_ good, squirming around just like this; except his eyes would be open, lidded, looking right at the person who was making him feel that way.

Ah, fuck. And now of course was a positively _lovely_ time for a boner. Stupid inappropriate thoughts.

"H-hah, fu-…" Marco breathed, the curse trailing off into a whine.

Jean was pretty sure his face couldn't get any redder at this point.

Marco's breathing seemed to pick up, the huffs of breath coming quicker from his lips and laced with more tiny, incredibly sexy whimpers.

Should- should he stop him? Wake Marco up? No… if Jean knew anything about those dreams, he knew he'd just end up embarrassing Marco, who probably had a boner himself-

 _FUCK_ the idea alone made Jean even hotter. God dammit.

The small part of his mind that was still sane, that still had morals, yelled at him not to look down and check. The rest of his mind overpowered it. Jean trailed his eyes from Marco's face, down his torso and lower. And, even through Marco's pajama pants, Jean could see the bulge.

Jean was caught just awkwardly staring at his best friend having a wet dream, having an incredibly inappropriate boner from it. What a perfect situation to be in. God, if Marco woke up now. He'd probably hate Jean.

"Ahh- Jean,"

 _Or maybe not_.

Jean's eyes widened impossibly from hearing Marco moan again. Hearing Marco moaning _his_ name. Marco was fucking _dreaming_ about him. Fuck. Fuck!

And the _way_ he moaned it, the way he stressed the syllable like it was precious, the way he sounded so _god damn pleasured_ -

"F-fuck, Jean," He moaned again, voice airy. He squirmed as he said it, too.

Whatever was going on in that dream, apparently Jean was doing good.

It took him a few moments to register what just happened, what just came out of Marco's mouth, _twice_. Jean was in Marco's dream. God, fuck, Jean was in Marco's _wet_ dream, making him moan like that, making him squirm like that, making him feel good.

 And Jean was _really_ curious to know what exactly was going on.

He was also curious to know… was this just coincidence? Was it just a trick of his subconscious, placing Jean in simply to have _someone_? Or, was there something behind this? Could it… could it mean maybe Marco had some feelings for Jean, too?

Marco snapped Jean out of his hopeful thoughts with another breathy whine, now shifting closer to Jean and _fuck-_

Jean may or may not have let out a small whine himself as he felt Marco's boner rub against his. Jean moved away, though part of his mind begged him to keep the friction, but now they were mere inches apart from each other.

The room was almost completely dark besides moonlight filtering in through the window, perfectly illuminating Marco's face. And fuck, Jean was shamelessly staring. The curve of Marco's lips, the way his eyes pinched shut tighter than they already were at rest occasionally, the blush on his freckled cheeks, he was beautiful. And unfairly sexy.

And Jean should probably have already woken him up…

But he didn't have the chance to dwell on that before Marco's hips bucked into his.

"Fuck-!" Jean gasped, probably much louder than he should have. But holy _shit_ , that felt really good.

He drew away from Marco immediately, feeling him startle awake from the sudden clamor, and forced himself to throw his hot thoughts and arousal right out the fucking window. Oh, this was not going to go well.

Marco's breaths were still heavy, but his lips spilled no more of those delectable moans, and his eyes were now fluttering open.

Jean desperately tried to calm himself down, to think of anything other than Marco. Dead cats. Road kill. Anything that could potentially kill his boner.

"Jean?" Marco asked, probably confused as to the scene around him. Jean didn't blame him, given this was probably drastically different than his dream.

As Marco woke up more, the blush that had faded from his cheeks returned, an even deeper shade of red than before. So he definitely recalled his dream. That, or he realized he still had a boner. Or maybe a combination. Jean may or may not have shifted a bit to hide his own boner.

"A-ah, yeah, hey, Marco."

Jean Kirschtein, picture of fucking grace and eloquence.

"You- you've been awake?" He asked, voice small and obviously embarrassed, as if he knew the sounds he'd made.

"Couldn't sleep." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"O-oh… um," he took a breath, "did I, uh…?" He'd begun to ask a question, but trailed off, unable to finish.

Jean had a pretty good idea of what he was saying, and took the perfect opportunity to be a little shit.

"Sounded like you were having a pretty nice dream, there." He said, failing at covering the way his voice wavered a bit, and covering up his own arousal from the situation with a cocky smirk.

Judging by the mortified look on Marco's face, it worked.

"Oh god," Marco groaned, looking everywhere but Jean's face. "I'm- I am so sorry…" He squeaked out.

Jean decided to push a little further. Maybe he could take this chance to find out just how Marco really felt about him. It was worth a shot, right?

"Was I good?"

Marco's face now paled from the question.

"O-oh my god, I didn't," he stuttered in denial.

"Judging by the way you said my name, I'd say I was pretty good, yeah?" He pushed, using Marco's embarrassment as a way to chase away his own. He should probably have been a little ashamed at how much confidence he gained from Marco's awkwardness.

Marco groaned as he turned over onto his stomach, hiding his head in the pillow he was clutching at in pleasure only minutes ago.

"Fuuuuuuuck, no, I actually-? Oh, god," He mumbled into the fabric.

"Hey. You never answered me. Was I good?"

Obviously Marco wasn't expecting that as a serious question.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Hell yeah I do! Come on, tell me."

Marco flopped his head back into the pillow again. And, after a few moments, and with obvious hesitance, he nodded just slightly. Exactly what Jean wanted to see. He smirked, and leaned up onto one elbow from his spot next to Marco.

"Can we just- not talk about this? Ever? Just pretend this never happened, ever?"

Jean kind of wanted to just drop it. But, there was a part of him that wanted to keep going, let Marco know his feelings- that is, supposing they were actual feelings and not simply circumstances of the dream- weren't one-sided. The latter side of him prevailed.

"Well… maybe we should."

And, the words were out. For a moment, everything was silent, way too still, and Jean was worried he'd seriously just fucked up.

"What?"

"M-maybe we should. Talk about it, I mean…" He stuttered, trailing off at the end.

"Can we _please_ just drop it?" He begged, still hiding his face in the pillow.

"Why were you dreaming about me, Marco?" He asked bluntly. Better to get to the point than beat around the bushes, right? Hopefully?

Marco groaned into his pillow again.

"Jean, _please_ , can we forget about this?" He begged again in a small voice.

Jean felt bad, he really did. He didn't want to make Marco feel embarrassed or nervous like this, but he _had_ to know the truth.

"No- Marco, I have to know-" Jean began saying more urgently, but was cut off.

"Because I like you, okay?" He blurted out, and clutched the pillow his head was still buried in as if trying to hide himself even more. "I really like you." He said, softer now, and peaked out from the shelter of his arms and pillow, looking at Jean with the saddest expression on his face.

But, that was all Jean needed to hear.

He grabbed onto Marco's shoulders and turned him so he was no longer hiding his face, then tilted his chin up, and wasted no time in pressing their lips together.

Jean could feel Marco's initial shock, but he kept kissing him, and Marco didn't pull away. After a moment, he relaxed into the kiss, and it was absolutely perfect.

"You... you-" Marco stammered.

"I like you too, you fucking dork."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know I'm supposed to be updating Once Upon a Dream BUT this idea got into my head and I couldn't let it go unwritten. Sorry!! But I promise the next chapter is on the way, I'm just having minor difficulties writing it. I hope this is an okay hold-over fic!!


End file.
